Dumbledore's Man Through and Through
by vjbmax05
Summary: postHBP. 'Dumbledore's man through and through,' said Harry. 'That's right.' Will Harry find the Horcruxes and complete the quest Dumbledore has set for him? Spoilerwarning.
1. Facing Redemption

**Title: Dumbledore's Man Through and Through**

**Rating: **13+

**Chapter Rating: **13+ (Due to creative way of murder.)

**Summary: **In the unsettled town of Little Hangleton, Lucius Malfoy returns to his Master after a failed task. The Dark Lord offers him a new chance.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the Plot.**

**Well the Fan-fiction is under way! I won't make any promises on finishing it though.**

Little Hangleton was a strange place, even to itself. It was a tiny township, rather a village, which mainly kept business its business within its own grounds. Perhaps the only outside business the town actually received was with Great Hangleton. Supply trucks from Great Hangletonwere a sight to watch for little children, as they ran behind them as the trucks made their way to The Hanged Man, which was the local village pub. The Hanged Man was probably the most social place in the vicinity of Little Hangleton, and it was the common place of drunkards and half-drunks to discuss things of importance as they called it. The more sober and acutely sensed population of Little Hangleton looked at these men and women with scorn.

'Bah –' a woman sitting at the end of the bar snorted to another woman testily, who was watching the alcohol doused men and women, 'Things of importance they call it, and I call it gossip. They're a bunch of time wasting fools if you were to ask me.'

But fortunately or unfortunately, they did not ask her. The gossip was always mostly about things outside Little Hangleton, because as the owner of the pub put it, 'Little Hangleton's too small a place for anything important.' But sometimes, the pub's topic would change to something local. The Riddle Manor, though probably unoccupied since Frank Bryce had died, was still the main local topic. There were still many versions of the tale, and probably more to come. But the strange occurrences all started with one family, the Riddles.

The Riddles, had been perhaps the most unpopular family in Little Hangleton, they were very rich and snobbish, and since they weren't very social, when they died they weren't missed. But why was their topic so important, or to say _popular_, to the citizens of the village? It was in the manner they died.

Some of the older villagers explained to the new ones, that the maid of the Riddle Manor, came running down the hill one day screaming at the top of her voice, 'LYING THERE WITH THEIR EYES WIDE OPEN! STILL IN THEIR DINNER THINGS! COLD AS ICE!'

This of course, meant that the Riddles were dead. No one really bothered mourning for them, but they launched straight into the rumors. Apparently, the Riddles were perfectly healthy, but dead. The autopsy had showed no sign of them being poisoned, shot, stabbed, strangled or suffocated. The blame hadbeen immediately placed on Frank Bryce, who was the Riddle's gardener. The townsfolk were quick to draw the lines between Frank and the deceased Riddles.

'Nasty temper he had,' some said to others who had quickly agreed that the 'war had hardened the man.'

Frank of course, had to be released, since there was absolutely no evidence that he had committed any of the crimes he had been accused of. But despite this, the villagers of Little Hangleton still believed Frank Bryce to be guilty of the deaths of his previous masters. Anyone who rose to his defense in the busy pub was quickly chastised and was pounded by over strung, fabricated evidence. This was of course until _that_ day.

Three years ago, everyone was quite surprised when a local ruffian came running down the hill, in the same manner the maid had 53 years ago. He came down screaming, 'BLOODY MURDER!' The teenager apparently admitted going there to try setting up a prank for 'old Mr. Bryce.' The ruffians found it amusing to do this since they carried their parents prejudice against Frank.

Frank Bryce had been found dead in front of the fireplace in the Riddle Manor. Strange thing was that he had been found exactly the way the Riddles were found. Frank Bryce, according to the autopsy, had not been poisoned, shot, stabbed, strangled, suffocated or died of old age. He, simply like the Riddles, had fallen dead for no apparent reason at all.

Those who believed he committed the murders of the Riddles, were quick to change their words and said that they were 'always trusting of Frank.' Many people at The Hanged Man that night nodded eagerly, that they agreed that they always believed Frank.

But some men and women stuck by the fact that Frank was guilty. They justified their answer the only way they could. 'Frank had summoned an evil spirit into the Riddle house to haunt it.' They said to all who would listen, 'it killed the Riddles first, and when Frank went into the house, it killed him.'

The Riddle house however, recently was again a topic of interest. It was sold to a perhaps wealthy group of people. Even though the people of Little Hangleton knew the house was now occupied, they found that whenever they went near it, they had something else to do. The new owners had never come out, orbeen seen, the house was empty one night, and was occupied in the morning. The villagers had also seen lights, yes, brightly colored flashes of light through the shutters at night sometimes. They had come up with a whole new set of rumors, just to set each other at ease about the house.

But Lucius Malfoy found that the villagers were the least of his worries, as he appeared with a swish of his cloak in front of the Riddle Manor. He crooned his head back slightly, and twisted his shoulders to catch a glimpse of the Little Village below the hill he was on. He snorted; a week back he would have even found the villagers filthy. He turned the doorknob of the door in front of him and entered.

The house smelled unpleasantly of rotting wood and animal corpses. Lucius Malfoy strode further inside the house, and stopped cold when he heard voices.

'Come Bella, what urgent news do you have?' said an indifferent high pitched voice.

'Wormtail sent word from Spinner's End. Dumbledore's dead, my lord.' said Bellatrix Lestrange barely containing her glee.

'Draco was successful then?' the voice screeched, now more interested.

'No my lord, Draco was not able to kill Dumbledore when push came to shove,' Bellatrix said more eagerly now that she had her lord's attention. 'Draco cornered him, and when he couldn't kill him, Snape did."

'Do you know why Severus would do such a thing?'

'No, my lord.' Bella answered, almost nervously.

'_TORMENTA!' _he hissed as Bellatrix whimpered. Lucius shivered at the thought of the mild abbreviate of the Cruciatus Curse.

'Do not lie to me Bella, for the Dark Lord knows all.' The chilling voice spat.

Bellatrix gasped for a breath of air and spoke again. 'It was Narcissa, my lord. She made Snape promise an Unbreakable Vow. Snape had to do it, or his magic would be at a loss.'

'So, Narcissa has lost me my greatest spy in the old fool's ranks, in fear of me tormenting her son. I will take care of that.'

Lucius shuddered. The Dark Lord spoke of his wife and son as being _disposable_.

'What are you going to do my lord?'

'Do not question too much Bella, or you will get more than just answers.' Bellatrix shuddered under his careful voice, 'But why not? I shall tell you your sisters and nephews fate. Your sister will not have to have a fear of me tormenting her son anymore, for she will not have one. But do not worry, her grief will be short lived in the hands of her fate.'

Bellatrix shuddered again. The Dark Lord spoke again, 'You do not seem to share my enthusiasm Bella.'

'No, my lord, I do not question you.' Bellatrix said swiftly.

'Then let your loyalty be unwavering.' _He _said.

A lowly hiss erupted in the room. There were two pitches of the hiss, and they took consecutive turns. The chilling voice spoke again, 'Nagini is cold, light the fire Bella.'

There were many swishes of robes, and a crack and Lucius could hear the warm crackling fire, trying to battle the cold atmosphere of the house.

'I have an idea my lord.' Bellatrix sounded anxious.

'Is that so Bella? Please proceed.'

'Since none of us can enter the Potter boy's home, due to the protections Dumbledore's put on it, why not we let Nagini go and spy on him? Perhaps even kill him.'

'And what if Nagini dies in the attempt? What if Potter kills her.' The Dark lord sounded almost _caring. _

'Casualties are required in war, my lord.' This was of course The Dark Lords most favorite teachings when he sent a Death Eater into sure death.

'SILENCE! You do not understand Naginis importance in this war!' He said whispering furiously.

'Yes, my lord, of course, my lord.' Bellatrix said in sullen tones.

'For your insolence,' The dark lord said, 'I will send you on a mission. Go and deliver your sister her death, and do not make it swift.'

Bellatrix shivered, almost remorsefully.

'Did you just not say that you do not question me Bella?'

'Yes, my lord, it will be done.'

'Then go now Bella.' He said swiftly, 'I have another guest waiting. Lucius my slippery friend, do not hide in the corner, come forward and claim what is yours.'

Lucius strode into the room, falling swiftly to his knees like ha had done many times before. Beside him, he saw the sweating face of Bellatrix Lestrange, his sister-in-law.

'Leave us now, Bella.'

She rose, and slowly backed away out of the room.

'Did you acquire it, Lucius? Or is your death inevitable?' The Dark Lord spoke coldly.

'Master, the defenses around your ancestral home were too strong, I could not recover the cup.'

'It is no mere cup, Lucius! It is Hufflepuff's goblet, it bears great value to me.' The Dark Lord spat.

'My lord, I have always been a loyal servant,' this of course was a lie, Lucius did not feel very loyal to the man who had just ordered the murder of his wife.

'You lie, Lucius. You want to escape my presence, you want to go stop Bella and save your family, your wife and son. You want to flee this country with them. You even hope for Harry Potter to triumph over me!' the Dark Lord said, eyes wide and threatening.

'No, My lord, never, My lord.' Lucius whispered, bracing himself, shivering.

'YOU LIE!' The Dark Lord boomed, 'Do not think I cannot see your shiver Lucius, do not think I cannot sense your hesitation to speak to me. Do not lie to my Lucius! TORMENTA!'

Lucius bit his lip. The pain, surely bearable, and the curse was also easily blocked, but the Dark Lord found it an insult to him if one of his Death Eaters threw the curse off.

'I have a task for you Lucius, and if you accomplish it, you can redeem yourself. Go kill one that failed us, Eliminate your son, Draco. I have no use for weakness in my ranks.'

'No.' Lucius heard himself say, not believing himself.

'What was that my slippery friend?' Voldemort whispered as the room suddenly went cold.

Lucius knew that when someone disrespected the Dark Lord in such a manner, death was inevitable. He had watched countless of his fellow Death Eaters die at the hand of the dark lord, as soon as they whispered a word against him. Lucius himself was treading a thin line ever since he was sent to Azkaban by Potter and his friends. Once the Dark Lord broke him out, he immediately sent him on a mission, to his ancestral home. Just a few miles away from here, there was an old house, once belonging to the Gaunts. It was a curious house at that. There were dead snakes hammered into each wall. He had to open a secret trapdoor, leading him through a filthy underground tunnel, where the Dark Lord had said he would have to pass a few obstacles to find some Goblet or the other.

'No.' Lucius said more fiercely. If he was going to die, he may as well not give the Dark Lord any satisfaction.

'TORMENTA!' said the Dark Lord furiously.

Lucius concentrated on the curse upon him, squared his shoulders and called out, 'PROTEGO!' He shakingly stood and looked at the Dark Lord straight in the face. In front of him was a livid skeletal face. Lucius gasped for a second, once he looked into the Dark Lord's eyes. Then he started laughing. A snigger at first, slowly turning into a shaking laughter, not a cruel one, a genuine one.

The roaring laughter soon came to an end and Lucius looked straight into the Dark Lord's face. 'You won't win. The dark won't win.'

'You fail my teachings so amicably. There is no Light or Dark, only power and those too weak to seek it.'

'Potter will be victorious, _Voldemort_." Lucius said surprising himself once more. It was the first time he had said the Dark Lord's name. It was almost empowering.

'You dare…' Voldemort spat at Lucius.

'I dare mort than you do.' Lucius said spitting at his old master's feet. 'I dare face my death.'

'You do not deserve a swift death that I may give you.'

'You deserve no more.' Lucius said, smiling again at the Dark Lord's eyes.

'What brings on this change of heart, Lucius?'

'When I found your place, I saw what you did to your uncle, if you showed no remorse to your _own _family, how can I expect you to show remorse to mine? All you are is a friendless half-blood who meddles in things against things that are natural, things that are pure.'

'Crucio.' Voldemort whispered as Lucius broke out into screams. 'You have no inkling, no idea of how much I have accomplished! I have taken steps to immortality that no man possibly has! I could have shared my fortune, my glory with you, as I am to share it with my servants.'

'What am I to do with immortality without my wife? Without my son?' Lucius said, shuddering from the curse, lifting his eyes to meet the dark lord's again. 'To watch those who in your care die around you is a worse curse than death Voldemort.'

'Admirable sentiments,' Voldemort said, raising his wand.

'SAVE HIM POTTER!' Lucius screamed looking into the Dark Lord's eyes, 'SAVE MY SON! DO NOT LET THIS MONSTER GET TO HIM.'

'Potter cannot hear you Lucius, not even the gods can.' Voldemort spat, 'Diffindo!'

Lucius Malfoy dropped to his knees, the powerful severing charm slitting his throat, his blood sinking painfully through the wooden flooring around him.


	2. The Miracle Man

_Save him Potter! Save my son! Do not let this monster get to him!_

Harry Potter woke up on the semi-bright morning before his birthday, clutching the side of his head. He had grown tired of this nightmare Lucius Malfoy had been haunting him with those few words as he looked into the Dark Lord's eyes, Green eyes, _his_ eyes.

A month had passed since Harry first found himself murdering Lucius Malfoy by his hand. Harry remembered the carefully copied out note he wrote to Minerva McGonagall, newly instated Headmistress of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Alastor Mad – Eye Moody, the elected leader of the Order of the Phoenix, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, his best friends. The note had said briefly that Lucius Malfoy had died at the hands of Voldemort. Harry of course didn't include the message Lucius had said to him. The responses were expected.

Dear Harry,

Lucius Malfoy finally snuffed it eh? Who would have thought that You-know-who could have done it himself? I'm coming to pick you up on your birthday, and a week after that is Bill's wedding. We can then _proceed _on what we were planning to do.

-Ron

Harry smiled at Ron's response. His hate for Lucius Malfoy was completely expected seeing that the Malfoy and Weasley family always seemed to have an ongoing feud. But Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for the circumstances he had to die under.

Dear Harry,

Do you know the circumstances that Voldemort killed Malfoy under? Maybe that'll hold some clues to our _mission_. Why would Voldemort just kill one of his most loyal Death Eaters? I heard from Ron that you were coming to the Burrow on your birthday. See you there.

-Hermione

Harry was perhaps a bit peaked at Hermione's intuition, so he had just scribbled a not**e** telling her that they'd discuss it at the Burrow. He remembered Alastor Moody's note only too well.

Potter,

Good thing you tipped us off. Malfoy was a huge thorn by our side. He kept influencing the Ministry against us. I suppose now the Ministry would be easier to work with. Minerva passed to me the message that you were going to leave school this year. So seeing as Albus said to me 'not to take you lightly' before he died, I'm formally inviting you to the Order of the Phoenix. Weasley and Granger have already been inducted if you didn't know.

-Moody

Harry of course wrote a polite note back thanking Mad-Eye for the praise. He then proceeded to tell him that he wouldn't be joining the order, since it's more than a title, but a commitment. Harry went on to explain that he already had a commitment set up by Dumbledore, and he couldn't join the order, and even if he did, he would be of little use. Professor McGonagall's note was slightly heartening, but Harry saw behind the strict mask and could see that his Ex-Professor turned Headmistress had still been mourning for Albus Dumbledore.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I hope this letter finds you in good spirit. I understand the past week has been hard on you. I also understand that You, Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley have decided to skip your last year at Hogwarts. I would have requested you three to remain back at Hogwarts, but seeing as Albus has set you with a task, I feel rather selfish to ask you to stay behind. Albus has left a small, closed crate of things to be given to you. I will come to your residence at 6 pm on the eve of your birthday for tea, and to hand this over. I am well aware that your relatives will not provide the tea, so I shall bring some of my own.

-Minerva McGonagall

Harry was looking forward to today for the longest time, today was the day he was going to leave the Dursleys. The Dursleys never really treated him well. He was always the boy, who lived off their money and _good-will_. Harry of course, was never the receiving end of the good will. After he was forced out of his parents care he was sent to relatives to live with. His aunt and uncle had him live in the cupboard under the stairs for a good 10 years of his life. He was often yelled at and punished for any abnormal thing that had happened.

Then one day, the truths about their hate for him were revealed. Harry Potter had not been ordinary, just like they said, He had been a Wizard. He was, not even ordinary in Wizard standards.

Harry was the only person alive, due to the death of Albus Dumbledore, whohad escaped Lord Voldemort's wrath – sure death – more than 5 times. At the age of one, Voldemort had attacked his parents' house and murdered both of them. He had then turned his wand upon Harry, and connected Harry to himself – unintentionally – with the curse that failed. Voldemort was then banished, and turned into nothing more than a mean spirit before he regained his body just more than two years ago. In this time, Harry had found that wizarding wars worked nothing like Muggle – Non-magical folk – wars. They didn't end when all the forces from both sides agree to meet on a great plain, and shot curses until the other side _depleted. _Wizarding wars worked slightly more complexly. Voldemort used techniques of espionage and fear to infiltrate the large and corrupt Ministries. There was perhaps no way of fighting for the resistors of evil. For every Death Eater – servant of the dark lord – caught, 10 more appeared in their place. The only salvation the Wizarding World had against dark wizards had was to _survive_ until their heroes defeated the Dark Lords. Since Albus Dumbledore had died the Wizarding World had turned their heads to perhaps the only hero they had left. They turned their heads to a sixteen turning seventeen year old boy.

Harry wasn't as unprepared as the forces of the Dark Lord thought. During the previous year, Dumbledore had given a greater gift than weapons, and training to defeat Voldemort. Dumbledore had given Harry the gift of Voldemort's psychology. Dumbledore had understood that trying to teach Harry what Voldemort had learned over 70 years was not the best way to help Harry defeat Voldemort. Like his late mentor had once said, 'It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.'

However, Harry's train of thought had been interrupted. Dudley Dursley pounded on Harry's door with his pudgy hands. Harry silently agreed to himself that if he had other cousins, which he didn't, Dudley would be his least favorite. 'Come out Potter! Mum wants you to do the dishes.' Dudley called and quickly made his way downstairs, his foot steps heard. Harry snorted in disbelief. Even in the last day of his residence in their _humble_ household, they had chores for him.

Harry quickly started packing. Before he went down to his _family _he wanted to make sure he was completely ready to go. He stashed many old cloaks, robes and such inside his old school trunk. He set out a few pairs of jeans, and plain white shirts. He also took out his invisibility cloak, and set it near the rest of the articles of clothing he was going to take. Harry then separated his large traveling cloak from the trunk, keeping it aside. As he started dumping his old school books into the trunk, he came across one particularly tattered one. A small label in the back read, 'This book is property of the Half-Blood Prince.' Tears welled in Harry's eyes as he connected the book to the particularly painful memories of last year. He contemplated putting the book into the trunk, like the rest of his old stuff, but at the end he put the book in the stash of things he was taking.

I'll make him pay; Harry thought savagely, He'll fall to every curse he created. At the end, Harry had put everything away in his old school trunk, excluding some clothing, a traveling cloak, his invisibility cloak, _Half-Blood Prince's _copy of Advanced Potions Making, his Firebolt and the Marauders map. Harry of course, was not planning on taking the Map on the adventure with him, but was planning on handing it over to Minerva McGonagall, who was supposed to come for _tea_ this evening.

Harry finally shut the trunk, and started dragging it downstairs.

'WHAT'S THAT INFERNAL RACKET BOY?' Uncle Vernon shouted, sitting comfortably in the kitchen. 'WHY ARE YOU BRINGING YOUR – he paused looking at Harry's trunk – ABNORMALITY DOWN HERE!'

'There's no reason to shout Uncle Vernon, honestly, you're two meters away from me,' Harry said, an eyebrow raised, then he added sarcastically, 'Or is that how _normal_ people talk.'

'THE NERVE OF YOU BOY!' Uncle Vernon purpled, 'AFTER ALL THE TIMES WE'VE FED YOU, CLOTHED Y–'

'And it'll end tonight, so bear my defiling presence for one more day.' Harry said again, in the same sarcastic manner. He found that this was the only way he could deal with the Dursleys, once he had grown too old to be _shut in the cupboard_.

'It's true then?' Aunt Petunia suddenly seemed aware of the conversation, if you could call it that, 'You're leaving tonight, and taking all your _abnormality_ with you.' She had said this with a fixed gaze on his trunk.

'No…' Harry said, 'I'm taking the _abnormality_ I left upstairs with me. This –' Harry said pointing to the trunk, 'This I'm going to leave with you to hand over to a friend who will come over tomorrow. Once you've done that, you can cut your ties with us _freaks_.'

'You have a place to stay then, since this Dumblebee character is dead?' Uncle Vernon grunted.

Harry look surprised. Were they actually _concerned _for _him_? Harry's surprise was quickly smashed like it was trampled by a herd of Dragons.

'We don't want you landing on our door step again if some Policeman catches you roaming the street.'

'You can be assured that I'll be out of your hair.' Harry said spitefully. 'An old professor of mine will be coming over for tea tonight.'

'Don't expect us to serve any refreshments for your kind, boy.' Uncle Vernon spat back at him.

'She didn't expect anything,' Harry smiled, 'Actually, she predicted you'd be bad enough hosts, so therefore, she's bringing her own tea.'

Uncle Vernon purpled again, but thought it better not to say anything.

Dudley for the first time in the conversation spoke up timidly, 'So there'll be no more Dimmentiwhatsits?'

'There won't be any _Dementors_ here because of my presence, Dudley.' Harry said, 'But since Voldemort – you know, Dark Lord, Destroyer of Peace – has started escalating his war, it won't be long before he turns on _normal _folk like you.'

'So- So there's a chance I'll see him again?' Dudley whimpered.

'See who Dudley?' Harry said, his mind racing through the possible things Dudley could have seen in the presence of Dementors.

'Th-The Giant man, you know, the one that came to give you your letter.' Dudley shivered. Harry almost laughed as Dudley was scared of a man who probably couldn't hurt a fly, intentionally anyway.

Both breakfast and lunch were a silent ordeal in the house of Dursley, Harry had taken the trunk and locked it into his childhood bedroom, the Cupboard under the stairs. He stashed all he was taking with him into his old school bag. By 5:30 all the Dursleys, had assembled in the living room, fully dressed formally, as though they were attending a banquet. Harry smiled. They were anxious that he was going to leave.

Exactly at 6:00 pm, the door bell rang. Vernon Dursley bustled up to the door to answer it. He opened it, and found he was looking at no one. He looked around, there was no one to be seen. Harry, a few feet behind him called out. 'Nice to see you again Professor McGonagall.'

Uncle Vernon followed Harry's line of sight and saw a tabby cat. A strangely familiar tabby cat. Uncle Vernon had no time to contemplate this of course, since the cat instantly changed into a mildly serious looking woman. She had her red hair, which had more recently turned grayer, pulled into a tight bun. Her glasses fit perfectly on the brim of her nose and she was wearing a business suit. A muggle business suit.

Under her left arm she carried a bag which sagged since there were a few books in it. 'Shall we proceed to the living room then Harry?' She asked in a mild mannered tone.

McGonagall sat across to Harry, while pouring him a cup of tea. 'In light of current events Harry, The ministry is trying to keep as many tabs on you as possible. I have a brief idea on what you and your two friends are going to do – Professor McGonagall looked into his eyes – You're not taking them are you?'

Harry nodded in acceptance of her accusation. 'They do not know what they're dealing with. I will not allow them to walk blindly into their death. Perhaps when they see…'

'And you Harry, are you not walking blindly into death?' She responded.

'I am doing what is asked of me, not blindly, but surely deadly.' Harry said, choosing his words carefully.

'Dumbledore has perhaps asked too much. But I will not meddle in those things, for it is not my place. My place is with Hogwarts, as Alastor's place is with the Order. Dumbledore has given you his old school trunk, containing a few items.' Professor McGonagall said, pulling out a thin quillcase out of her bag and tapped it with her wand twice, causing it to grow into a lengthy but narrow trunk. Quite like a slightly enlarged broom case, 'He asked me to give this to you, along with this letter in the case of his death. Tap it twice with your wand, it'll enlarge, tap it thrice with your wand, it'll shrink again to the size of a quillcase.' Minerva said handing him an envelope.

Harry curiously took the letter from his Ex-Transfiguration teacher and ripped open its covers. There was a note, with a loopy handwriting he had grown too fond of.

Dear Harry,

If you are reading this letter, then I am dead, and my only weakness has killed me. Yes, I did understand that Severus would be the one to kill me in this war, but why did I not act on it? Simple, I trusted the man too much. But in doing so, I have left you with a burden of a near impossible task. You will perform admirably Harry. In the trunk I have left you a few of my possessions. I have left three pensieves, Harry. One being my own, it is the larger one with the gold trimming. One being full of memories of Tom Riddle from various men and womenwhich might prove helpful to you to find the lost artifacts. The last being an empty one, for your own use. Sometimes man finds that he has too many memories. You will also find a book, a note book in which I made all my notes on Alchemy. The last thing I have left for you in the trunk is a bag of Sherbet Lemons. They, of course are not simply for enjoying, and they may prove useful in the most stressful of times. They have all been laced with a slight Cheering draught and a Calming draught. Good luck Harry, you are the grandson I never had. The world has placed a burden upon you unfairly. Face it Harry. There is no worse weapon you can use against Voldemort other than love.

Yours, beyond the grave

Albus Dumbledore.

Professor McGonagall smiled sympathetically at him, tears welling in her own eyes. Harry spoke in a crackled voice, 'A great man once said, "Death is nothing but the next adventure".'

'So you're going then?' Professor McGonagall asked the question that she knew the answer to. Harry nodded sadly.

'Then allow me to present a birthday gift that Filius, Alastor, and I have prepared for you.' She said smiling, taking out three tattered books from her bag, 'Severus told me, rather angrily, that you were in possession of a book that once belonged to him. I am assuming that you still have it?' She asked lightly. Harry nodded and she proceeded. 'Allow me to present three similar books, my old _Advanced Transfiguration_ book, Filius's old _Advanced Charms_ book and Alastor's old _Auror Handbook_. You will find that they are all similar to the book that once belonged to the Half-Blood Prince.'

'Thank You.' Harry said, tucking all his things, including the texts into Albus Dumbledore's old school trunk.

'You are welcome, Harry. He would be proud of you, you know?' Professor McGonagall said.

Harry swished the invisibility cloak around him, but did not cover his head. He then covered himself with his traveling cloak, which made him appear to have a body under the cloak. 'I hope I can live up to the praise Professor McGonagall.' He said as they both exited Number Four for the last time.

She smiled slightly, 'You may call me Minerva, Harry. Dumbledore's trust in you will not go unfounded.'

Harry smiled back and said, 'It better not, I am Dumbledore's Man, Through and Through after all.'

They both apparated away with loud cracks, as Petunia Dursley looked through the blinds to see if the _freaks _had gone yet.


	3. The Minister

**Boy Who Lived: Hero or Coward?**

_By Rita Skeeter_

The title of the Daily Prophet screamed these words the next morning. Many outraged people cried against the Boy Who Lived as they read it.

_Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, was seen leaving his residence by this public-loyal reporter. 'I saw Harry Potter leave his residence at around 6:30 pm', what a perfect time to run away. Earlier that day, around 6 pm, a strange tabby had come to Mr. Potter's door, and had jumped to ring the door bell. This of course is not normal cat behavior, as one of our experts explains. Our expert was probably right, as this may have been the Transfiguration Professor turned Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall. This faithful reported was not able to look into the house, since 'I found some magic that blocked me from going in.' Harry Potter has always been a dab on the dark side, and this reporter is sure that he has used some dark magic to shield himself from the public's right. Harry Potter and an elderly woman had then been seen leaving the house and apparating. Mr. Potter had his owl, and was completely packed in traveling gear. _

_Our correspondences at St. Mungo's give reasons for Mr. Potter's situation. 'Mr. Potter,' He says, 'May be facing a mental trauma. I am sure that the death of Albus Dumbledore must have hit him hard. It perhaps caused him to run away, but I am disgusted that he'd run away at this time of need.' Another unnamed, but trusted source has claimed what could possibly be more a believable explanation. 'He has always been a boy border lining the dark arts, perhaps he snapped at the death of his mentor and joined the dark lord. Perhaps the criminal Severus Snape – murderer of Albus Dumbledore – had turned him during his school years.'_

_This reporter sincerely believes that Mr. Potter should be apprehended before he causes damage to the Auror ranks. _

The new young barman, Al, at the Hog's Head stuffed the paper into his pocket angrily, and looked over to his employer. He simply nodded to Al. The employer looked like a wary old man; his becoming gray beard cut short, and his long white hair hid by cloak.

Harry had come to him last night with his problem. He knew that Dumbledore trusted him with a high regard. Harry was perhaps at a loss forwhere to stay before he left for his missions. He needed a place, a place that even Dumbledore deemed safe. He sat on the steps of the closed Three Broomsticks the previous night, looking through Dumbledore's Pensive, focusing on a thought of a safe place to stay. Memories from the Hog's Head filled Harry's thoughts. The old manager of the bar and inn was Dumbledore's half-brother, Aberforth Dumbledore.

Harry had not explained to Aberforth, or Abe, about the _horcruxes_, but had told him that he had some important things to do, to finish Albus Dumbledore's work. He had simply asked Abe for room and board, and a way to stay out of suspicion that he was Harry Potter.

Abe of course had a better idea. Abe said he needed part time help around the Leaky Cauldron, Tom then presented Harry with the idea of becoming his part time help under the temporary name of Al, perhaps a namesake for Albus. Harry nodded his approval. He had found a few self-Transfiguration spell, with helpful side notes in Minerva's old transfiguration school book. He made his hair grow a tad longer, enough to cover his unchangeable eyes and scar. He had also managed to modify a bit of his body proportion, to look more bulky and tall, and made his back curve slightly like Abe's did. Abe had said that the best way not to be noticed is to remain obviously in front of the public eye.

But he needed to stop the Daily Prophet's interference. If the Daily Prophet kept reporting any sighting of him, it would easily tip off Voldemort on what he was up to. All Harry needed now was an opportunity. That opportunity had just walked in through the door. Rita Skeeter and her photographer came into the pub, whispering rapidly. She stepped up to the counter, and spat at Harry, 'Get me a pint of firewhiskey, boy, and make it fast.'

Harry nodded and said, 'Yes, ma'am.' Harry then quickly filled the shot glass with the magical whiskey, and set it on fire with a muggle lighter. There was a puff of smoke rising from it and Harry rushed to serve it. Skeeter grabbed the shot glass from him hurriedly. Harry reached into his pocket and brought out an Extendable Ear, and slid it under her table.

'What are you doing here boy, leave!' She barked at him. Harry noticed how different she was to the people who actually _'meant'_ something. Harry backed away, slowly unraveling the _ear's _string and took his place behind the counter. He then plugged the ear phone into his ear.

_'That's exactly what I'm saying Steve, we need the Potter boy in the open.' Rita Skeeter whispered._

_'Why's that Rita?' said the photographer._

_'How many times do I have to explain this to you, Steve! The minister asked us to keep an eye on him.' Rita said to him._

_'Since when did we owe the Minister any favors?' Steve mumbled._

_'We don't owe him any favors, he's paying for it.' _

_'What if the Potter boy finds out that we're working for the minister?' Steve asked again._

_'He won't be able to do much will he? As long as he doesn't know that the Daily Prophet belongs to the Minister. He validates every article we right on Potter. Only the Minister, his Senior Undersecretary, the owner of the Prophet and I know. It's a closely guarded secret.'_

_'Why is everyone so interested in him? He's just a kid, a famous kid with a scar on his head.' Steve asked. _

_'It's because people are looking at him after the death of Dumbledore. The Minister wants to keep the icon under a leash.'_

Harry ripped off the Extendable Ear angrily. 'Had… no… right…' he muttered.

'Al,' Harry turned around to see Abe there, 'you do understand that I do not allow one of my customers to spy on another.' He said looking at the Ear warily.

'I- I'm sorry s–'

'Good thing you're not my customer then, son.' Abe smiled widely, revealing his bluff.

'Abe, you're an old sly dog, you know that?' Harry yelped and then added in a quieter tone to his friend, 'I'm going to have to do something today.'

'I suspected as much. Come into the back, I might have something to help you with your – _situation.'_

Once they were in the back, Harry asked, 'How would you know what the situation is? I thought it was only between the _Minister_ and the Daily Prophet.'

'Being a barman at a famous pub has its plus points, believe me. I hear many things here, Al. People might think that an old barman has a very weak sense of hearing, but they often find themselves wrong, but do not find _out_ that they are wrong.'

Harry smiled widely. 'Then you have information for me?'

Abe laughed, 'Of course. I was rather inclined to hear carefully when the Minister and the owner of the Daily Prophet entered the bar. Well, they were whispering the truth that you just heard and they drew up a contract, which they both signed and everything. Fortunately for you, Hog's Head's surveillance charms caught the whole event on Pensieve,' Abe said holding up a silver vial.

'As my best mate Ron would say, Bloody Hell!' Harry whistled, then added solemnly, 'He was right when he asked me to come to you.'

'He was a good brother, he was the one that got me this position in the first place. I have never had to reveal my name past Abe here, since most of the people here are dodgy, they don't mind a dodgy bar man.'

'If I may ask, why did you go into hiding, Abe?'

'Well, due to popular belief, there was this goat and I had a wand. But that was the cover story Albus cooked up. I – I was turned nearly into a squib by Grindelwald's followers. I still have a bit of magic, to use the odd cleaning charm, but most of it was drained out of me.'

Harry nodded warily and accepted the silver vial. He slipped it into his pocket and drew his wand. 'Finite Incantatem,' he said waving it over his body. He grew a bit shorter and a lot thinner, and his hair shrunk back a bit to display his green eyes and his famous scar.

'Ready to go then, Mr. Potter?' Abe said.

Harry swooshed his traveling cloak around him, 'Never been readier.' As Harry got ready to apparate, _Destination, Determination, Deliberation, _Abe slipped him a last side note, 'I know Scrimegeour, boy, and if I knew anything about him, it would be his determination.'

And with a swish of his cloak, Harry Potter had apparated away.

'Welcome to the Ministry of Magic Please state your name and business,' the cool female voice of the machine had said.

'Harry Potter, here to discipline the Minister of Magic.'

There was clinking as a silver badge came out;

_Harry Potter_

_Disciplining Higher Ministry Officials_

'Visitors, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes. Visitor to the ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium. Thank you, and have a nice day.'

The telephone box shuddered as Harry found himself moving down the magical elevator. Once the darkness cleared, Harry's gaze fell upon the newly constructed fountain of Magical Brethren. The aging dull gold had gone, andwas replaced by a new shiny gold with silver trimming. Harry walked past the fountain, walking up a few floors to the Minister's office. On the way though –

'STOP THAT MAN! I-it's Harry Potter!' An all too familiar voice shouted out from behind him. Harry turned back to see a red Percy Weasley. 'AUROR SHACKLEBOLT,' He said shouting to the nearest auror, 'Take him into custody!'

'Stand down, Auror Shacklebolt.' Harry knew Kingsley Shacklebolt wasn't going to move on him anyway, but he might as well play the farce. He looked to Percy and said in a firm voice, 'Under-secretary Weasley, under what terms are you taking me into custody?'

'You… you used illegal dark arts around your home!' Percy Weasley stuttered.

'There is no proof of that Under-secretary Weasley,' Harry said scathingly, 'Perhaps just a rumor made by the Daily Prophet, hmm? Just like they made rumors about Voldemort not being back two years prior to this one. I wasn't the law breaker in this situation either, Rita Skeeter was trying to break and enter my home. Take her into custody why don't you.'

Percy flushed as Kingsley watched in amusement and winked at him.

'Now I have an overly esteemed minister to visit.' Harry said stepping by Percy.

'He isn't going to take appointments today.' Percy said spitefully.

'He's going to take _mine, _because he is going to be very _interested _by what I have to say.'

Harry then pushed past the odd Weasley and whipped the minister's door open, Rufus Scrimgeour was, at least to say, surprised as the Boy Who Lived walked into the door, slamming it behind him.

'Tell me minister,' Harry said slamming the Daily Prophet on the table, 'What is this.'

Rufus Scrimgeour tried to meet Harry's eyes but could not, so he kept his eyes on Harry's hand, firmly pressed on the Daily Prophet.

'It's an article about you in the Daily Prophet, Mr. Potter.'

'Don't play stupid with me Scrimgeour. You just put a huge dent in my plans. Voldemort is not supposed to know that I left my home! You just handed the information to him on a silver platter, Scrimgeour! Oh, I know, I know the Daily Prophet belongs to you. I will not let you feed the wizarding world any information about me!'

'I will not have some STUCK UP TEENAGER WAGING A PERSONAL WAR AGAINST THE DARK LORD!' Rufus Scrimgeour said, retaliating.

'It is not my war, Minister, it is Dumbledore's.'

'Dumbledore is dead, boy, if you did not realize.' Scrimgeour spat.

'He will help me more from beyond the _grave_ than you can ever!'

'I see that you are Dumbledore's Man – '

'Through and Through, Minister. However, I must ask you to stay away from me. You have no right to monitor me the way you have been!'

'The Ministry is allowed to do such!'

'No they have not, I have not done anything above the law, Scrimgeour, therefore I am in perfect position to drive a law suit up your _arse_ for breach of personal privacy, and I have the tools,' Harry said pulling out the pensieve vial from his pocket and shaking it in front of the minister's face, 'to discredit you so badly, that you will be out of office in a day!'

'What is in that pensieve, boy?'

'The memory of you and the owner of the daily prophet sitting in the Hog's Head, discussing how best to hand the Daily Prophet over to you.'

Scrimgeour visibly paled. 'What do you want, boy?'

'I want to disappear for a while, be left to my own business, with no Ministry interference. I won't be bending any laws, do not worry.'

'Then you will be running away! Leaving the wizarding world alone withoutany hope!' Scrimgeour said reddening.

'Personally Scrimgeour, I believe, what I do, is none of your business, and your stupid wizarding world is beyond mental in placing all their trust in a 17 year old boy, who hasn't even completed his schooling!'

'Why do you work against the ministry?'

'I don't work against the Ministry, Minster, but I choose not to work _with_ it. By reporting all of my actions publicly, you have completely decimated my chance of going un-noticed until September! It is you that chooses to work against me!'

'Is there no changing you? What honey has Dumbledore put into your ears for you to show such loyalty to him?'

Harry wanted to look at the Minister straight into his eyes and scream out _LOVE, _but he responded quietly, 'The greatest magic of all, the only type Voldemort does not understand. And as you know, Minister, we fear what we do not understand.'

'So is that what you've chosen then? A path of a dead man?' The minister said, barely audible.

'Yes, as I am constantly telling you, that is what I have chosen,' then Harry added with a smile before he gathered his things and left the Minster's office, 'afterall, I'm Dumbledore's Man Through and Through.'

**Those who are asking about the mistakes, well I got a beta reader on it! Thanks Di!**


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